


I'll be there

by Doge_nut (The_end_of_eternity)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Dwight is an asshole, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, No Smut, Protective Daryl, Reader-Insert, Swearing, negan being a dick, two broken people trying to fix each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2018-09-01 22:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8640094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_end_of_eternity/pseuds/Doge_nut
Summary: When the Saviors take you and Daryl back to the sanctuary, you're both distraught. You comfort each other, Daryl opens up, and fluff ensues.





	1. Meeting the Man

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't know how far I'm going to take this. The idea came to me, and I rolled with it. Reader punches Negan, rather than Daryl, and they both end up getting taken. The first chapter follows extremely closely to the script, just to set the stage, but it should gain more originality as it continues. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> -this is also posted on my tumblr @freakypineapples-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Negan. He's an asshole. You know what happens.

You can't believe how quickly this plan went to shit. Ambushed.

You're thrown to the ground, on your knees between Maggie and Abraham. Maggie doesn't look good at all, she's shaking and pale.

Turning your gaze to the men that brought you here, you quickly examine who has whose weapons. You feel almost naked without your guns and blades. Being vulnerable like this is not a feeling you enjoy, at all.

Your eyes shoot to the RV door when it opens, and you glare at the man who steps out. Negan. He looks far too cocky for your liking, and his face is graced with a smirk.

"Pissing our pants yet?" He pauses. "Boy, do I have a feeling we're getting close." Negan strides around the group, looking closely at all of your faces.

"Yep. Gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon." He grins, smugly amused with himself. He's so confident in himself that you're sure he's done something like this before.

"Now," he asks, "which one of you pricks is the leader?" He looks around with that damned smug grin, and you really want to just punch him in the face. 

One of his men with a strange mustache points at Rick. "It's this one. He's the guy." Negan strides closer, looking down at Rick. 

"Hi." He states, smiling. "You're Rick, right? I'm Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people." 

His whole demeanor shifts from incredulous and slightly amused to irritated and almost disappointed.

"Not cool. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you're gonna be up to speed shortly."

"Yeah." He says to himself, nodding, before addressing Rick once again. "You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes. Yes, you are." He grins.

"You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what, you don't mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this, and it's really very simple.  
So, even if you're stupid, which you very may well be, you can understand it." He says calmly, as if explaining this to a child.

"You ready? Here goes. Pay attention." Negan swings his bat down from his shoulder, very nearly hitting Rick in the face, before pointing it at him.

"Give me your shit or I will kill you." He says this so bluntly and seriously that you know he means it.

"Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do." He walks away from Rick, passing you, before stopping in front of Michonne. He turns again to face Rick.

"You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That's your job.  
Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly will."

He has come to stand before Rick once again. "You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe. I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged, more pegged if you don't do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. And if that's too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it'll even out sooner or later."

Negan opens his arms, gesturing around him. "This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door," he pauses, chuckling. "You let us in."

"We own that door. You try to stop us and we will knock it down." Rick nods slightly.

"You understand?" He cups his ear, leaning closer to Rick. "What, no answer? You don't really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, now, did you?" There's faux disbelief woven in his voice.

"I don't want to kill you people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can't do that if you're dead, now, can you?" Negan runs his tongue over his teeth.

"I'm not growing a garden. But you killed my people, a whole damn lot of them. More than I'm comfortable with. And for that, for that you're gonna pay. So, now- I'm gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you."

You inhale sharply. That stupid bat, all this damn dramatic buildup. He's going to kill one of your friends, maybe even yourself. It should be you. You don't want to see anyone else die like that. Negan leans down to Rick, swinging his bat around. 

"This", he holds up the bat, "this is Lucille, and she. Is. awesome. All this, all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor."

Negan walks passed you, coming up to Abraham, who stands a little taller on his knees and tilts his chin up in a small act of defiance. "Huh." Negan says, before reaching a hand up to rub at his salt-and-pepper beard. "Ugh, I gotta shave this shit." He says.

Negan saunters over to Carl, pointing at him. "You got one of our guns." He crouches down. "Whoa. Yeah. You got a lot of our guns." Carl glares at him. "Shit, kid, lighten up. At least cry a little."

He stands back up, tucking the gun into the front of his jeans. When he comes to stand in front of Maggie, his eyes widen a little bit.

"Jesus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now." He raises Lucille as if to make true on his statement, and you freeze up, nearly launching yourself at him.

Glenn does that for you, lurching forward and shouting "No!" Some of Negan's men shove him to the ground and rough him up.

Maggie freaks out, yelling "Stop it!" You quickly grab her hand, not wanting her to get hurt.

"Nope. Nope, get him back in line." Negan orders, and his men drag Glenn roughly back to his spot. Glenn cries out as he goes, and pleads with Negan not to harm her as he gets there.

Negan chuckles. "All right, listen. Don't any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First one's free. It's an emotional moment, I get it.  
Sucks, don't it? The moment you realize you don't know shit."

Everyone is absolutely terrified, and you rub soothing circles into Maggie's hand, though you doubt it's helping at all.

Negan turns to look at Carl, before speaking up to Rick. "This is your kid, right?" He laughs. "This is definitely your kid."

Rick seems to be crumbling under this pressure, and he shouts "Just stop this!"

Negan swirls on him. "Hey! Do not make me kill the little future serial killer. Don't make it easy on me." He pauses. "I gotta pick somebody."

"Everybody's at the table waiting for me to order." He whistles as he walks around, looking carefully at everyone.

"I simply cannot decide." He pauses again, laughing. "I got an idea." He laughs again, pointing his bat at Rick.

"Eenie." Oh, you know exactly what this is. Your breath increases as he points his fucking bat at each person, landing on you occasionally. Maggie holds tighter to your hand.

Negan loses any order to it, carelessly pointing Lucille in random directions. "You. Are. It."

You shakily let out a huge rush of air, almost choking on it. Abraham.

You don't know if you should look or not. Your terrified. Abraham is one of your closest friends. You turn to look, and Abraham is still so tall and proud, refusing to show fear, even in the face of his own death.

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father and then we'll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry.  
Hell, you're all gonna be doing that."

He swings the bat. The sound of it crushing Abraham's skull just about breaks you. You hear screams all around you, and Maggie has your hand in a death grip.

Abraham gets back up, though, shocking the hell out of you. That hit should've knocked him unconscious. He breathes out shakily. "Suck. My. Nuts."

You just know that's exactly how he would've wanted to go. Fearlessly and snarkily. Blood drips down his forehead from the wound.

Negan hits him again. And again. And again. You flinch violently with each hit, and blood splatters against your cheek. You've lost count of how many times he hits Abraham.

You can't look. You can't cry. You can't do anything, and that infuriates you to no end.

Negan laughs and steps back, flinging a line of blood from his bat to Rick's cheek. "You guys, look at my dirty girl!"

He turns to Rosita. "Sweetheart. Lay your eyes on this!" He holds the bat in front of her face. She shakes, staring wide-eyed at the blood soaked bat. 

"Oh, damn." He gestures at Abraham's corpse. "Were you…were you together? Well, that sucks. But if you were, you should know that there's a reason for all this. Red-and hell, he was, is, and ever will be red. He just took one, or six or seven for the team!"

He pauses. "So take. A damn. Look." This is so fucking sick. Rosita looks like she's about to keel over any second now. You feel the fury rise up in you, and you see red.

"Take a damn look!" Negan shouts at her, and you lose it. You lunge forward, slamming a right hook directly on his face. He stumbles backward, and his men wrestle you to the ground. You growl and snarl, like a wild animal.

Negan rubs his face, looking truly shocked at how hard you'd hit him. He swings his bat forward. "No!" He shouts.

His voice darkens. "Oh, no." He laughs. "That. Oh, my- that is a no-no." He crouches beside you. "The whole thing. Not one bit of that shit flies here."

One of the men, one with a burnt face, runs up with a crossbow-no, Daryl's crossbow, and points it at your head. "You want me to do it? Right here." Negan pulls my hair back roughly, and you grunt and growl at him.

"No. No, you don't kill that. Not until you try a little." The man pauses, and then relents and lowers the crossbow. The three men drag you roughly back to your place in line.

Negan stands up. "Anyway. That's not how it works. Now, I already told you people. First one's free. Then what'd I say, I said I will shut that shit down! No exceptions."

He smiles. "Now, I don't know what kinda lying assholes you've been dealing with…but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important. I need you to know me."

"So-" he says, and raises his bat slightly. A feeling of dread creeps along your spine. "-back to it." He turns so suddenly that your brain barely has time to register what he's doing.

The bat crashes down on Glenn's head. Maggie wails, and your blood runs ice cold. Oh, God, what have you done?

Glenn mumbles and gurgles, trying to say something. You open your mouth in a silent scream, clawing at your jeans.

He looks at you, before turning his head carefully to Maggie. His left eye has almost popped completely out of his head, and there's a large dent in his forehead. It's horrifying, and you start to convulse.

"M-m-Maggie. I'll find you." He stutters out, and you can hear her sobbing and falling apart beside you. You want so badly to comfort her, but you know deep down that this is your damn fault.

Negan cracks down again, and again, turning Glenn's head into mush, just like Abraham. Maggie is choking on her sobs, and you nearly empty the meager contents of your stomach.

He stops, swinging the bat around. "Lucille is thirsty! She is a vampire bat!" Maggie shudders and gasps beside you.

"What? Was the joke that bad?" Negan chuckles. Ricky is staring wide-eyed at the ground. "I'm gonna kill you." He says.

You turn to look down the line at Rick with a cold, creeping dread shivering down your spine. Negan crouches down in front of Rick.

"What?" He nearly whispers. "I didn't quite catch that, you're gonna have to speak up."

"Not today…not tomorrow…but I'm gonna kill you." Rick sounds so strong, refusing to let this man break him down, and ensuring that he will make good on his promise, just with his hard, resolved tone of voice.

There's a ringing in your ears, and you hold your breath. You can't hear what Negan says, but he soon calls up the man with the mustache, who hands him a hatchet.

Suddenly, Negan is dragging Rick by the collar of his jacket. Rick scrambles around after him, and Negan tosses him into the RV. Rick's eyes connect with yours, and there's a wild, desperate look in them that makes your heart clench.

The RV pulls away, and there's silence for a while, minus the hushed conversations between the Saviors. You look around at your friends, your family. 

You want to do something. You want to slaughter these men with your bare hands, before beating Negan to death with his own precious Lucille. You want to avenge Abe and Glenn.

But you can't. They have all your weapons, and greatly outnumber you. This feeling of utter hopelessness crushes you.

Swiveling your head around, you examine the faces of your companions. There are those that look furious, with good reason. There are those that look numb. And then, there are those who look broken beyond repair.

Your heart flips over and tries to blow itself up in your chest, and you grit your teeth against the painful emotions ripping through your chest.

Briefly, you wonder if trying to comfort Maggie would be wise. For one, you don't know how the Saviors would react, you really aren't interested in getting shot in the head for moving out of line. You're also worried about Maggie, though. Does she hate you? Will she blame you?

You don't know how long you sit there, warring with your emotions, before the RV finally pulls back into place. Light has broken across the sky, it's very early in the morning by now.

The door flies open, and Rick is shoved out, once again dragged around to where Negan wants him. "Here we are."

"Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you even know what that little trip was about?" After a moment of silence on Rick's part, Negan tries again.

"Speak when you're spoken to." Rick looks up. "Okay. Okay." He shudders. Negan smirks. "That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that- I wanted you to understand."

He pauses, smiling. "But you're still looking at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work. So," he crouches down,"do I give you another chance?" 

Rick's voice I shaky as he answers. "Yeah. Yes." Negan pats him on the back, standing up. "Okay. Alright. Then here it is, the grand prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day will become everyone's last crap day, or just another crap day."

Negan gestures with his hand. "Get some guns to the back of their heads." His men step forward, and you freeze up as you hear one cocking behind you. "Good. Now, level with their noses so if you have to fire," he makes an obscene exploding gesture from his nose," it'll be a real mess."

What happens next is a blur in your mind. He calls Carl forward, very nearly having Rick cut his arm off. You've never seen Rick break this far. He's shuddering and hyperventilating, sobbing and pleading. But he stops him.

"You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me." He repeats these words until Rick offers a terrified confirmation. Negan stands, taking the axe away from Rick.

"We did it. All of us. Together. Even the dead guys on the ground, hell, they get the spirit award for sure! Today was a productive damn day! Now I hope, for all your sake, that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you, that is over now." Negan sighs, seeming incredibly pleased with himself.

"Dwight." He calls, and the man with the burned face stands at attention. Negan gestures in my direction with his bat. "Load her up." Dwight grabs you, and you struggle as you're hefted and thrown into the back of a van.

The doors are shut, and you hear nothing but a short scuffle. Moments later, the doors reopen and Daryl is tossed in with you. He grunts, and you flinch as Dwight aims Daryl's crossbow at you both before shutting the doors again.

"What the hell happened?" You ask Daryl, and you recoil at the sound of your own hoarse, scratchy voice. "I tried to make them let me swap places with you. They just decided to keep us both instead." He growls, and you blink in shock.

Sure, Daryl was a selfless man when he wanted him to be, but this was definitely not something you were expecting him to do. 

"You shouldn't have done that." You say, and he scoots back against the wall of the van.

"Maybe not. But at least you're not alone now." You nod at this, finding that you're oddly relieved that Daryl is with you now. Going with Negan and his men, you'll need all the support you can get.


	2. Welcome to Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Daryl arrive at the Sanctuary, where they become more acquainted with Dwight. Also, awkwardness and fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is shorter than the last, I know. I'm still not sure how far I'm going to take this, and I'm really slow about writing and posting stuff. Enjoy!

It wasn't long before you arrived at Negan's place. The ride there was silent, as you and Daryl kept to yourselves in your grief.

The doors of the van open, and Negan stands there, grinning widely at the two of you.

"Welcome to the Sanctuary!" He booms, and you grimace.

He grabs you by your arms, forcing them together with duct tape, and you notice Daryl receiving the same treatment.

Suddenly, you're tossed over Negan's shoulder, and he holds you there by your waist and the backs of your thighs.

"I can walk." You growl, and he chuckles. "Oh, I'm well aware, doll. But I'm sure you can run, too. I'm not giving you that option." 

You notice Daryl being dragged along by two other men. You're both lugged into the "Sanctuary" and down winding hallways, before reaching a metal door.

The door is opened, and you and Daryl are thrown inside an incredibly small room, which seems more like a broom closet, if you're being realistic. 

As a man removes the duct tape from your wrists, Negan asks you your name. You remain silent, which is seemingly not a good idea, as he leans in close to your face.

"I suggest you tell me your name before I have to force it out of him." He points at Daryl, and you grunt. "My name is (Y/N)."

A slow smile spreads across his face. "Good girl. Now, (Y/N), I hope that you and Daryl here are good friends, because you'll be spending an awful lot of time together."

Your name sounds strange coming from his mouth, and you grit your teeth. He stands up and turns to leave.

"Ta ta for now!" He chuckles and slams the door, leaving you in darkness, save for a sliver of light from under the door.

After a few minutes of silence, your breathing starts to increase, and you push against the stone walls as if you can knock them down. 

You hear Daryl shuffle a little on the other side of the space. "Hey, are ya alright? What're ya doin'?"

He sounds concerned, and you huff out a shaky reply. "C-claustrophobic." You stutter.

"Oh." He states. He comes to sit by you, slightly unsure of himself. Daryl isn't sure how to deal with another person's fear, but he wants to try.

He slowly, carefully places an arm around your shoulder, and you bite back a whimper. You respect Daryl and his strength, you can't bare to break down completely in front of him.

"S'alright." He says, and awkwardly pulls your head into his chest. "S'alright." He repeats, and you choke out a tiny sob.

His other hand comes up to gently run through your hair, easily and painlessly pulling out all the knots.

Before you know it, you've fallen asleep to the feel of Daryl's fingers at your scalp and the sound of his reassuring voice.

***

Hours later, you wake up to the sound of the door unlocking. You find that your head had fallen into Daryl's lap sometime during your slumber. You push up and away from Daryl, already on edge.

The man with the burned face, Dwight, you think, stands in the open doorway with two other men. They step in and drag you and Daryl out of the room.

"What's going on? Where are you taking us?" You ask, and Dwight scowls. 

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out." He states, and you grunt.

You're thrown to the ground in another room, where there are shelves and racks full of sets of sweatpants and sweatshirts, all painted with yellow letters.

Dwight smiles, gesturing at the lettered clothing. "You see these? You're gonna earn these." He points at the clothes you're wearing, and the other men step forward. "And those, eventually, you just might earn as well."

Your confusion doesn't last long, as the men step forward and start to strip you. You shout and struggle, but they manage to remove every bit of clothing from your body.

Covering yourself, as if you can retain any fragment of your dignity, you glance at Daryl. He's received the same treatment, and is glaring daggers at the men.

His glare deepens as Dwight slips his trademark angel wing vest over his own shoulders.

"Ah, I like this. What do you think, guys?" He asks the men, giving a mock twirl.

The men just roll their eyes, shoving your and Daryl's clothes into bags. Soon, you're both being dragged back to your cell.

Your naked body hits the cold stone floor with a slap, and you curl in on yourself in the corner.

The door is slammed and locked once again, and you don't dare to look at Daryl. 

There's a heavy silence as you start to shake from both cold and fear, and you jump as a large, warm hand is placed lightly on your back. 

"Hey. Hey, it's okay. It's just me." Daryl's says, and you relax slightly into his touch. "May I?"

You're not entirely sure what he's asking, but you trust him enough to mumble a small agreement.

The hand on your back starts to move, tracing patterns on your back before massaging your muscles gently. It's been so long since you've had a massage, not since pre-apocalypse.

You moan quietly as he kneads the tension from your back. This is never something you thought you could see Daryl doing, but you're definitely grateful that he is.

His hand stills on your back after a while, and you make a sleepy noise of confusion. He chuckles softly, moving his hand higher to your shoulders.

"Sorry. I was just thinkin'." You nod. "What were you thinking about?" You ask.

He sighs. "The others. I'm sure they're alright, but Maggie…I'm just worried."

You turn your head slightly, careful to not reveal too much of yourself. Gently, you place a hand on his arm, and he looks down into your eyes.

"I know. Believe me, I'm worried as hell. We've just gotta stick through it, and hope that we can see them again." Your voice is strong and genuine, and he mumbles a soft "yeah."

There's a moment of peaceful silence as Daryl rubs the tension from your shoulders and back. Your eyes are shut, and you nearly fall asleep.

There's a crash from the other side of the door, and you sit up quickly, placing a hand over your chest. 

"Fuck! Oh well. Fucking animals don't give a shit if their food hits the ground. Five second rule." Dwight. He's mumbling this to himself, and you hear the locks on the door turning before it opens.

Light filters into the enclosed space, and you try and cover yourself more, as Daryl slightly blocks you from Dwight's sight with his larger frame.

Two sandwiches are tossed carelessly to the ground, and Dwight snorts as you both reach for them, carefully inspecting them.

"I didn't poison them. Negan would be pissed if I did. You're our leverage. Course, you're not gonna like 'em, but they won't kill you."

They smell like dog food, and your suspicions are confirmed as you take a small bite. Resisting the urge to gag, you shove the whole thing down your throat, chewing quickly.

Dwight smirks. "What were you expecting? A fancy meal? Nope. You don't get the good stuff."

With that, he leaves, shutting and locking the door once again.

It's quiet for a moment, as you both digest the food. You yawn, stretching your tired arms up in the air. You've forgotten your indecency for a moment, and they come straight back down to cover yourself.

You can feel the blush creeping up your face and neck, and you glance fleetingly at Daryl.

He is staring at the far corner of the cell, scratching his neck. His face doesn't show any signs of having seen you, and you turn your back to him.

You ease your sore, nude body to the ground and close your eyes. Some sleep would do you some good.


	3. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Daryl talk about the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this is short. Really short. But I wanted to put something up, so...here I guess. Enjoy :)

Your eyes fly open, and you shake violently, clawing out.

"Fuck! Ow, damn it!" Daryl jerks back, clutching his injured shoulder, which has been bandaged.

"Oh, God. God, Daryl! I'm so sorry, it was an accident! I was having a nightmare and I-" he holds up a hand, silencing me.

"It's alright. I get 'em too." You fall quiet, guilt causing you to wince as he rubs his shoulder.

He seems to hesitate, opening his mouth and closing it. He has a resolved look as he says, "What was it about?"

You curl in on yourself a little bit. "If ya don't wanna tell me, it's fine." He assures, but I shake my head.

"It was…it was bad. Negan, he…killed everyone. Everyone except for me. He left me alive in a pool of their blood. And…yours too. I just don't know, are they alive now? Are they planning an attack against Sanctuary? I'm so fucking worried."

Daryl nods. "I know. All we can do is hope."

The two of you remain silent for a good half hour or so, worrying about your family.

When the door opens again, you're both startled as Dwight throws clothes at you. They're plain off-white sweatpants and sweatshirts, just like the ones in that room.

Your sweatshirt has an orange K spray-painted onto it, while Daryl's has an A. You have no idea what these letters mean.

The two of you dress quickly, not glancing at each other as you do. Dwight leads Daryl away, leaving you alone in the dark room. Daryl shoots you a reassuring look as the door is shut.

Soon after they’ve left, you feel yourself begin to panic. Hyperventilating, you whimper and scratch at the wall next to you.

You lose most rational thought in your frenzy, and you very nearly begin to slam your head against the wall, before the door opens. 

Daryl is shoved back inside, and you clutch to him as tears roll down your cheeks. You feel ashamed and childish, sobbing as he runs his hands gently up and down your back.

"Shhhh…quiet now, you're alright. It's okay, (Y/N). It's okay. I'm here." He calms out down, and Dwight snorts before shutting the door. 

There's a moment of peace as your sobs turn to hiccups. You open your mouth to thank Daryl, when some music is turned on just outside the door.

It confuses you. The song is a playful, jaunty tune, and you and Daryl exchange glances, shrugging your shoulders.

Hours later, you begin to understand the purpose of the music. It's just one song, playing over and over again.

They're trying to drive you insane.

Fortunately, you're together, because you know that being alone in this tiny space, going mad to the sound of "Easy Street" would be unbearable.

"Daryl," you begin, "Where did they take you?" He shrugs. "A doctor. Wanted to fix my bandages or somethin'."

You nod. After another few minutes of listening to that damn song, you pipe up again. 

"Say something. Anything. I can't stand that fucking music." You cringe, and he sighs.

"Well, um. I could tell you a story or something, I guess." He scratches his neck.

Nodding, you say, "Anything. Please."

He clears his throat. "I guess I'll tell you about how I met Rick. It's kinda funny, actually. I was pissed cuz they all left Merle behind, handcuffed to a pipe on a rooftop back in Atlanta. And I…well, I'd just gotten back from huntin', and my first reaction was to throw a dozen squirrels at him."

He pauses, running a hand over his face and chuckling. "We went after him. Damn bastard wasn't even there, just his fucking hand. The fucker cut it off himself to escape."

You know that Merle is dead now. Daryl had mentioned it before, when you were telling him about your brothers. You don't know where they went, you were split up in the beginning. They were twins, both seventeen years old. Probably dead now.

"Your turn," he says softly. "I can't be the only one gettin' all soft and shit."

You scratch your neck. "Uh, okay." You think for a moment, pondering over the things you haven't yet told him.

"Before all this shit started, I had a girlfriend. Yeah, about two years before the shit storm hit. Her name was Lily." His eyebrows raise slightly at that, but you continue.

"She was the cutest little thing, spunky and loveable. I loved her to the best of my ability, but even that couldn't save her in the end." You take a shaky breath, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"Cancer's a bitch. Just…out of the blue. Went in for a check up, and they told me she only had a year left. She was already stage 3." A tear slips out of your eye, and you wipe at it furiously. You had told her, on her deathbed, that you wouldn't cry for her. She only wanted to see your smile.

"Losing her…was the worst pain I ever felt. She tried making the most out of the time she had left, but…it wasn't enough."

Feeling vulnerable, you curl into a ball in the corner, trying desperately to get Lily's smiling face out of your head.

Silently, Daryl moves behind you, and brings you to his chest. He's sitting on his knees, cradling you and rocking you back and forth.

You grab onto his sweater, pushing your forehead against his chest. "I couldn't protect her. But in a sad way, I'm glad she didn't make it to see this cruel world."

Daryl simply nods. "I know. I know." He says, and continues to hold you for a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...reader isn't homosexual in this. I was leaning more towards bi or pan? But yeah. If you're uncomfortable with that, sorry.


	4. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of strong emotions and fluff in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long. I had my first finals today, then tomorrow and the next day. My two week long break starts friday, so hopefully I'll be updating more often :D

An hour or so later, the music shuts off. It's Dwight who opens the door again, but this time, there's someone behind him. Negan. 

 

You both glare at him. He simply chuckles as you try to melt him down with your molten stare.

 

"Now, now. Is that any way to treat your host? I'm only trying to help you. You firecracker, you." He chuckles, running his tongue over his teeth. 

 

"Get up." He demands, and you lift your tired body from the ground. He looks over you, his gaze burning you from the top of our head to your bare feet.

 

"Hate to break it to ya, darlin', but you don't look so great in those. What do ya say? How about I marry your pretty little ass, huh?" He runs his tongue over his lips, adjusting the bat on his shoulder.

 

As he stands tall and imposing before you, you find no sense of fear or self preservation. Only pure, unbridled hatred.

 

"Never." You spit, taking a step back from him. Your arm brushes against Daryl's, and you take deep breaths.

 

Negan is silent for a minute, just staring at you with that damn smirk on his face. "Alrighty then. Don't say I didn't try to give you a better option. I'm sure my other wives would enjoy sitting around on their asses all day with you, just saying."

 

He grabs your arm harshly, dragging you out of the cell. Dwight grabs Daryl, an then you're being led to another room with a bed, tv, and some other home-y things.

 

"So you see," Negan begins,"everyone here has gotta earn their keep. You, little doll, have three choices: bow down to me and work. Do jobs: cooking, laundry, gardening, I don't give a fuck. Or, you can become one of my wives and sit on that pretty little ass all day, never having to lift a finger."

 

There's a moment of silence before you ask, "the third option?" Negan chuckles darkly, pulling aside the curtains on a window so you can see outside, where a group of men are keeping a bunch of walkers tied to a fence. "The third option…you become a dead guy's lunch."

 

He smirks, thinking of something. He turns to you. "I'm sure you'd be _damn_ tasty, but I'm also sure you don't want that. Am I wrong?"

 

You simply glare at him. "Thought so." He says, closing the curtain once again. "Now, redneck. Your options are the same, minus the whole wife thing."

 

Negan pulls a face. "Imagining you in lingerie is not what I had planned for my day. Ugh." He runs a hand down his face, ignoring Daryl's glower.

 

"Okay, I'm going to ask you both a very simple question…what are your names?" You stare at him. "You know our names. The hell are you talking about?" You ask.

 

Negan laughs. "Easy, spitfire. You misunderstood me. D! What's your name, old pal?" Dwight looks over.

 

"Negan. My name is Negan, sir."

 

"Correct! Good boy. So, you two see this example he's set? I want you to follow his lead. What are your names?"

 

You sneer, knowing exactly why he wants this from you, and also recognizing exactly what will happen if you say what you're about to say. 

 

"(Y/N). My name is _(Y/N)_."

 

The smirk drops from his face, and you see Daryl send you a nervous glance in the corner of your eye.

 

"I think you still don't understand what I'm gettin' at. _KNEEL_!" He shouts, but you stand tall, refusing to be broken by this man.

 

He turns to Dwight, nodding at him. Dwight leans down and picks up Daryl's crossbow, pointing it at Daryl's temple.

 

"I. Said. Kneel." He hisses, and you quickly drop to a knee. "Now, doll, what's your name?"

 

You grit your teeth. "Negan." You mumble quietly, immediately hating yourself for it. "What was that? I didn't quite hear you."

 

"NEGAN! My name is…Negan." You glower at him. You wouldn't have said that if the crossbow was to your head, rather than Daryl's.

 

"Ah. Good girl. Good girl! You see this girl, Daryl? You see how good she is? Your turn. Kneel down, bud."

 

Daryl doesn't move, but you notice his hands shaking slightly. "You won't kill me. You need me to keep Rick in line."

 

It's so reckless. True, but reckless and stupid. _Please, Daryl._ You beg him softly in your mind. _Don't get yourself killed._

 

"You're right and wrong. You see, I have her. And she is more than willing to comply with any demands I make, unlike you. I should just kill you on the spot."

 

"No! No, please don't hurt him!" You cry out, and the three men look at you in surprise.

 

"Aw, look, Daryl. She actually _cares_ about you! I recommend that you don't get your dumbass killed, or she'll be _broken_."

 

Daryl finally relents, dropping to his knee on the carpeted floor. "My name…my name is- is Negan." He stutters a bit, but he does it. You exhale shakily. You don't think you could live here with Negan if Daryl were dead.

 

"Alright, that's all I needed from you babies today. Back to your cell, now." You're dragged back to the damn room again, and the music is back on.

 

Grabbing Daryl's hands, you gently push his hair out of his eyes. "Hey. Hey, it's okay. We're alive. I know how it feels to submit to him, I hated it too. We have to survive. If not for ourselves, then for all our friends back at Alexandria. Okay?"

 

He nods, and you're comforting him for once. You curl up next to him in the corner, running your hand through his hair and rubbing his back.

 

"We'll be okay." You repeat, hoping that the words are true.

 

Dwight comes by again later, alone this time. He hands your food to you, but hesitates before leaving.

 

"That was smart. Earlier, ya know? Negan doesn't like being disobeyed. Kneeling was the right choice, even if you didn't want to."

 

He strokes the burnt side of his face, lost in thought. "Why are you telling us this? I thought you hated our guts." You say, glaring at him.

 

His demeanor changes from thoughtful to pissed in a matter of seconds. "I do. Ya know what? I'm done talking to you." He smiles suddenly, and it makes your skin crawl.

 

"Actually, I have a present for you both." Dwight digs his hand into his pocket, tossing two pictures on the floor before you.

 

Upon closet inspection, you notice that they're photos of…Abe and Glenn. The gore of their crushed skulls leads you to throw yourself away from the photos, feeling like you're going to vomit. 

 

"This is what will happen to you and your idiotic friends if either one of you steps out of line. Remember that." He turns sharply on his heel, slamming the door. You hear the lock click, and the music is turned on, only it's louder than before.

 

You rock back and forth in the corner, sobbing, as Daryl just sits where he is, unmoving. After a while, he comes to sit next to you. You look up at him, seeing a sea of guilt churning in his eyes.

 

Being consumed by your own sadness, you hadn't even stopped to think about this. "Oh, God. Daryl, it was not your fault. Please, just…" You touch his face, and he closes his eyes.

 

You move to sit on his lap, being careful of his shoulder wound. You brush his hair back from his face, cupping his face with your hands. 

 

"Hey. It's fine. It's not your fault, and it's fine, okay? Hey, look at me." He opens his eyes, and your heart clenches at the unshed tears you see there.

 

"It's not your fault." You breathe, and pull his head to your shoulder, burying a hand in his hair, while the other rubs soothing circles on his back.

 

"You can let it out. Cry if you need to. I'm right here. Crying doesn't make you weak, okay?" He wraps his arms around you, and you feel him shaking. His sobs are muffled by the sweatshirt, and you try to comfort him through this as well as you can.

 

When his tears are gone, you mumble comforting words to him, until you can sense he has fallen asleep. His grip on you has slackened, and his breathing slows.

 

Easing yourself off of him, you set him down on the floor. Gritting your teeth, you pick up the two photos. They don't deserve to be remembered like this. 

 

Gripping hard to the edges of the photos, you tear them, again and again, until all that's left are small slivers of paper, and the pictures are indistinguishable.

 

 _This is only the beginning_.


	5. Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short. I'm a horrible person for waiting this long to update. Oh well.

 

The two of you work for Negan each day. You've taken up a job in the kitchens, taking food out to hungry Saviors. You wanted to help guard the fence, but Negan doesn't trust you or Daryl enough.

 

You're still his leverage, after all.

 

One day, as you're taking a walk around the grounds, you hear someone call your name. Whirling around, you see Daryl jogging towards you, looking furious.

 

"They have Carl." He growls, and you blink owlishly at him. "What?" You ask.

 

"Carl is here. He snuck in on one of Negan's supply trucks, shot a few of his guys with a machine gun. Now Negan's parading around the compound with him."

 

You pale, clenching your hand into a fist. "Oh, God. Where are they now?" Daryl runs a hand down his face.

 

"It wouldn't be a good idea to bother them. Negan had me in there a while ago, like he was mocking Carl with me bein' there. Carl looked real angry, I don't want him doing somethin' stupid."

 

You furrow your brows. "C'mon, Daryl. When have either of us made any good decisions?" He mumbles something under his breath, and you raise a brow.

 

After a moment of him running his hand over his scruffy facial hair, he sighs. "They're in that one room that Negan's always in, next to the parlor? Last I checked, anyway." 

 

You nod, turning to jog away, but a large hand around your wrist stops you. "Don't get yourself killed, (Y/N)." You look down at the ground.

 

"You know I can't promise that. This is _Carl_ we're talking about, he's like a brother to me. I can't- _won't_ let Negan harm him."

 

His grip on your wrist tightens for a moment, and he holds your stare. Then, he sighs, releasing your arm and crossing his own. 

 

"Fine. Just...try to be careful." You snort, using sarcasm as a defence against the emotion creeping in your throat.

 

"Never thought you cared, Dixon." You smirk, turning and jogging away.

 

As you rush through the halls, pushing through groups of men and women alike, you contemplate Carl's presence in the sanctuary.

 

Why is he here? Was he trying to break you and Daryl out? Or was he trying to seek vengeance for Abe and Glenn? Either way, it was foolish of him to come here alone.

 

Just as you're nearing the room, rolling your eyes at the giggling coming from the parlor, you spot Negan and Carl striding away from you.

 

Towards the entrance of the compound.

 

Where is Negan taking him? You decide that it may not be a wise idea to approach them, so you stick behind the two, your heart spiking in your chest as Negan casually wraps his arm around Carl's shoulder.

 

You hear something about Rick, and then Negan's loading Carl into a truck and driving away. You watch in dismay, but you're slightly relieved that Carl is no longer in the Sanctuary.

 

You feel a presence behind you, and you turn to see Daryl. He's glaring after the truck.

 

Closing your eyes, you clench your fists and sigh. "I swear, if he harms him, I'm gonna rip him to pieces." You say through gritted teeth.

 

Daryl steps forward, holding your white-knuckled fists in his own hands. "I know. He'll have hell to pay from both of us. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that." He mumbles, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

 

"Yeah," you say, turning to face the gates, "let's hope not."


	6. Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader does something risky. Trouble ensues.

 

Negan's men are combing the streets, looking for you. They sneak in and out of houses, but you know they won't find you.

 

A Savior steps a little too close to your hiding spot, and you hold your breath, thinking back to how you got into this situation.

 

_Negan hops out of his truck with Lucille perched on his shoulder, smirking. You notice with a stab of panic that there is blood on his newly shaved face and white tee._

 

_He strolls toward the door to the compound, and you rush behind him._

 

_"Negan! What the hell happened at Alexandria?!" You shout, coming to stand in front of him._

 

_The smirk is wiped from his face. "Wouldn't you wanna know, doll. I'll tell you what fucking happened. I was having a grand old time with your pals, hell, I even cooked with Rick's kid! Started fancying a domestic life y'all are living there and shit."_

 

_Negan's face darkens, and he looms over you. "All of a sudden, Mr. Dickhead Spencer shows up, wants me to kill Rick the prick so he can take charge! I said no, sir, and gut him like a fucking fish!"_

 

_He laughs suddenly, rubbing a hand down his face. "You know what? Your friends didn't like that. Oh, boy! That spitfire Rosita decided to shoot at me, but Lucille came to the rescue!"_

 

_Suddenly, he shoves Lucille in your face, and you observe the bullet lodged into the side. "Look at that! So I was real God Damn angry, and I had your food-hogger Olivia shot right in the face! Turns out your smartass Eugene made the Damn bullet that almost killed me! So, I brought him here!"_

 

_You freeze. "What?" You ask. All of the information squeezes into your brain, and you turn to see Eugene being hauled by you and into the compound._

 

_He turns to look at you. "(Y/N)?" He asks, stumbling a little. Your eyes widen, and you move to follow._

 

_Your movement is halted by Negan's large hand gripping your upper arm. "I don't think so, doll. I'm letting you off the hook for your attitude and refusal to kneel once you saw me, but you won't be so lucky by conversing with a prisoner."_

 

_You glare at him, wrenching your arm out of his grasp and stepping back. "Don't touch me!" You spit, clenching your hands into fists at your sides._

 

_"Awe, c'mon, darlin'! I'm not trying to hurt you, doll. But I won't even hesitate if you go against my word another time."_

 

_His voice and expression darken, and he steps menacingly towards you. "Besides," he grins, "it's not like you can do anything about it."_

 

_You grit your teeth, and do the most idiotic thing you could've done. You punch him in the face._

 

_Feeling your fist connect with his nose is satisfying, until a feeling of dread crawls up your spine._

 

_"Damn! Ouch! I think you broke my fucking nose!" For once, he is void of sarcasm and jokes, simply clutching at his nose as blood leaks through his fingers._

 

_You had no idea that you hit him that hard. You look past him to the gates, which are open. Two guards are rushing towards you, but you see your chance and take it._

 

_You run, swerving past the first guard. With the second, you aren't as lucky, and he grabs your arm as you run passed him. Dragging him with you, you reach back and kick him in the back of his knee. The effect is immediate, and he drops to the ground, losing his grip on your arm._

 

_You run fast enough that it feels like you're flying, and the first step you take out of those gates feels like freedom._

 

_You leave behind shouts of saviors, the growling of walkers, and your friends. That thought almost leads you to stop: will they punish them if you leave?_

 

_You're taking that chance, along with so many others, by running. You just have to hope that it will be worth it._

 

_Deciding that you don't want to be shot down, you weave through alleyways so that they won't keep track of you, ducking into an old motel._

 

_The place seems void of anyone, dead or living, so you sigh and tuck yourself into a cozy hiding spot inside a closet._

 

That's where you find yourself now, peering through a crack in thee closet door. You're hidden by some old boxes and various other things tucked inside the closet, so the saviours crawling around the town probably won't find you.

 

After about ten minutes of the man searching the room, and a terrifying moment when he opened the closet and didn't see you, he pulls out his walkie from his belt.

 

"There's nothing here, boss. Either she's already long gone, or exceptionally good at hiding." There's a crackling sound, and Negan's voice comes over the line.

 

"Alright. None of the other groups have found anything either. Head back and regroup, we'll look ahead."

 

The man sends out a confirmation before stomping out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house. 

 

You sigh and slump back, running a hand through your hair. You're too tired to keep your eyes open, no matter how hard you try, and you fall asleep inside the cramped closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shit I'm sorry. I just wanted something to happen, to make it a little exciting 


	7. United

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone makes an unexpected appearance.

You open your eyes upon hearing a loud noise coming from outside of the room you're hiding in. You don't move, hoping that the darkness will continue to hide you from whoever comes in the room.

The door opens, and you hear boots crossing the carpeted floor, coming to stand directly in front of the closet.

The closet door opens, and the person calls your name softly. The whispered voice is the last voice you were expecting, and you jump out of your hiding spot.

"Jesus?!" You whisper-shout, throwing yourself at him and into a hug. He wraps his arms around you, pressing his face into your neck. 

"I'm so sorry I took so long. Saviors were crawling all over the place, I had to wait for them to clear out." He mumbles, his voice muffled by your shoulder.

You pull away, looking at his face. "It's a good thing that you didn't get caught! How the hell did you find me?" 

"I hid in a supplies truck with Carl, we came from Hilltop." He furrows his brow. "I tried to stick with him, but he wouldn't come with me when I jumped out. He got caught, but assuming by what you did to Negan, you already knew that."

You blush. "Yeah, I knew. They took him back to Alexandria, and captured Eugene. Apparently, Rosita shot at him."

Jesus whistles. "I was waiting for her to snap. Anyway, let's get you out of here." He pats your shoulder and leads the way out.

You reach the front door, and Jesus looks carefully through the window before you both exit. The coast is clear, so you sneak out of the house.

Jesus knows the way out of here, so you follow him silently, keeping your eyes peeled for Saviors while you walk.

"Where are we going, anyway?" You whisper, and Jesus looks to you, scratching his beard.

"Hilltop." he says, and you nod. You want to be back at Alexandria with your friends, to see what else has happened since the day you all met Negan. Even so, Negan's men are likely quite active there, with what's happened lately.

Hilltop will be safer. So, you both make your way there, avoiding the Saviors and dispatching any wandering walkers.

The walk there is pretty quiet, other than some small talk. We don't see any Saviors, they must've headed straight for Alexandria.

You finally reach the gates, and Jesus waves at the guards to let them in. You're not entirely sure how Gregory will react to your arrival, but you could care less about him. You don't know him all that well, but you are aware that he is incredibly selfish.

The gates open, and you stop in your tracks. There stands your whole group, clustered around none other than Daryl Dixon.

You don't think, you don't even blink. One moment, you're walking in the gates, and the next, you're sprinting into his arms.

"(Y/N)?!" He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "God, I was worried you went to Alexandria. Smart girl, comin' here."

You grin, pulling back and gesturing to Jesus. "Actually, that was his idea. I just kinda trailed along. Anyways, how did you get out?"

He snorts. "Someone let me out when everyone was freaking out about your escape. I killed Fat Joey, and took my bike back," He nods to Jesus, "ran into him on the way out. He was wondering where you were, so I told him how you ran off. He left to find you.

"I was gonna go with him, but I didn't know the area, and I wanted to make sure everyone was okay." He rubs his neck. "I'm sorry I didn't come get you first. I don't know what I was thinkin', but you're here now...so that's great."

He seems sheepish and unnecessarily guilty. "Don't even worry about it. Checking on everyone else was the smart thing to do, and I don't blame you at all. I'm just glad you're here now." 

You smile at him, and turn to the others. They fall upon you at once, each person taking their turn to get a hug from you. You're crying, overwhelmed by all the love.

Carl steps up last, throwing his arms around you. You laugh, burying your head in his neck. "I was so worried he was gonna hurt you. I saw you leave with him." You say, almost choking on your relief. Your smile drops, and you slap his arm.

"The hell were you thinkin'? Walking right into the sanctuary, leaving without Jesus? He could've killed you!" He looks down.

"I know. I'm sorry, (Y/N). I just...nobody's doing anything about him. I wanted to try..." he trails off, and you sigh, smiling at him again.

"Yeah, I know how you feel. If it helps, I broke his nose for ya." He jerks up, widening his eye.

"You _what_?!" You smile, suddenly shy as everyone surrounds you again, asking the same thing.

"You heard me." You laugh, and several of your friends clap you on the back, laughing alongside you.

You close your eyes, savoring this familiar feeling. You've missed your family so much.

You understand that Negan and his men should be here soon, so you make your visit to Glenn and Abraham's graves as quick as possible.

Jesus collects some food and other supplies for your journey, and stops you before you leave. "Hey, take care of yourself, alright?" He says.

You smile at him. "Don't you worry, I will. You too, okay? You're one of my closest friends, I couldn't bear to lose you." You pat his shoulder, and he presses a pack of supplies into your arms as you leave.

The group splits, you and Daryl have a plan to flee as far as you can, Jesus will stay at Hilltop, and the rest will return to Alexandria. You bid each other farewell, sad to be separated once again.

You hug Rick for the last time in probably a while. "Bring us back when you're ready to fight, okay?" You ask, and he nods his affirmative. "Of course. I'll see you soon, (Y/N)."

Daryl calls you over, and you climb onto his bike behind him. You wrap your arms around his middle, and press your cheek into his back. You wave goodbye to the others as you drive away.

The roads are mercifully empty, and you watch the hills and trees fly by. You're not entirely sure where you're going, but you need to be far away from Negan.

You settle in for the ride, digging further into Daryl's back. It's not long before you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it. Also, prepare your tissue boxes for the next chapter. You may need them. >:)


	8. History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're gonna hate me for this

You wake up to someone shaking you. You open your eyes, focusing on the face before you. It's Daryl.

"What's going on?" You ask, rubbing your eyes. He chuckles.

"You fell asleep on the damn motorcycle. I don't know how you managed that, but we're here." He answers, sitting back on his heels.

You take a moment to register where "here" is. You're sitting on the ground outside, and Daryl's bike rests against a wall nearby. 

You look up, and your blood runs cold. "Hospital" reads the sign on the wall, with directions to different service areas.

The place is too familiar. You jump up, nearly knocking Daryl over as you do. "Oh, no." You gasp, sprinting to the front doors.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), wait!" Daryl calls, but you don't stop. You fly through the doors, racing down hallways and up the stairs.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, and your mind pinpoints it's concentration on one name, a mantra that repeats over and over like a prayer, all in your head.

You know-oh, of course you know, that the person you want to see more than anything is no longer here, but you can't resist the pull. You drag yourself up a few flights of stairs, and you hear Daryl running a little ways behind you.

You reach your destination, skidding to a stop as you see the room number. Placing your hand on the door, you allow yourself to fall back into your memories.

_"Hey, babygirl. How're you feelin' today?" You ask, holding Lily's hand. She smiles up at you, and your heart melts. Even after all this time, you still fall in love with that smile all over again, every time you see it._

_"I'm doin' okay," she says, and rubs circles into your hand. "Dr. Polster snuck in some sliced peaches for me this morning, so that makes me feel pretty good." She grins up at you, and adoration shines in her green eyes._

_"Maybe when they let me out of here, we can buy a lifetime supply of sliced peaches." She sighs, and your heart clenches painfully._

_"Yeah, okay. We'll do that. I'll buy you all the sliced peaches in the world, baby." You whisper to her, cradling her hairless head to your chest._

You let out a shuddering breath, pushing open the door. The room is left orderly, no signs of occupation. The bed that once held the love of your life is now neatly made, and covered with a layer of dust.

You glance to the corner, which once held the biggest stuffed dragon you'd ever seen. You knew she would love it, and she did. That stuffed dragon was her best friend, "second only to you," she'd say.

You stand in the center of the room, feeling a bit attacked by all of the suffocating emotions. You can feel Daryl standing behind you, and you're grateful that he hasn't pushed for information. He understands.

You move to the window, placing a hand on the windowsill. Another memory floods you.

_"I'm sorry." She says, and you turn from the window to look at her with confusion._

_"Sorry for what?" You ask, moving over to the chair by her bed. Lily smiles weakly, considerably smaller and paler than she was last week._

_You bite your lip, resting your head on the edge of the bed. She places her hand on your head, running her hand through your hair._

_"I'm sorry for making you worry over me so much. For making you pay all of these bills, when we both know I'm going to die anyway." She whispers, staring at the wall opposite her._

_You lift your head, catching her hand when it limply falls from your hair. "Oh, baby. No, that's not- I don't feel like I have to do this or anything. I love you, so much. I want to help you. And...and even if, in the end, it doesn't help, at least I'll know that I tried my hardest."_

_You reach forward and brush a tear away that has fallen from her face. "Why," she begins, choking on a sob, "why do you love me so much?"_

_You smile, stroking her cheek affectionately. "Because you're the only person in the world that I ever imagined spending the rest of my life with. You're the most selfless, talented, beautiful, and intelligent person I've ever known."_

_She finally lets out that sob she's been choking on, and throws her arms around your neck. You cry with her, holding her gently, so that you don't hurt her._

Your hands are clenching he windowsill so hard that your knuckles are turning white, and Daryl has placed his hand on your shoulder.

You turn around, and he wraps his arms around you. "It's okay," he whispers, "you're alright."

You sob into his shoulder, and all of it comes spilling out. You tell him about how you and Lily met in college when you were 21, and she was 20. She was riding her bicycle around campus, and ran over you when neither of you were paying attention.

You talk about the first date, the movie marathon at your place, about her 21st birthday, when you took her out to get her drunk. 

You tell him about when she met your parents, and that her parents were homophobes and hated you. 

"I planned to marry her," you say, "I bought a ring and everything. A few days before I was gonna propose, she was diagnosed with cancer.

"It felt unfair, you know? To have the best person in the universe, right there in your arms, and then to have her ripped away like that." You take a shaky breath, and Daryl rubs your back. 

You tell him about your depression, and the rage. You never hurt yourself, never attempted suicide. You knew, somewhere deep inside, that Lily was watching, and would never forgive you.

You laugh as you tell him about the hundreds of cans of peaches that sat around your house for months after she died.

You talk about her funeral, about the one time you'd seen the color black associated with her. She was so colorful. Her funeral was the one time her parents could agree with you on anything: she was too good for this world, and we were all going to miss her terribly.

Daryl stays silent while you vent, just rubbing your back and holding you up. He remains a constant support, and you are so grateful for that.

You look up at him. "I'm sorry I dumped all of that on you. I just..." you trail off, gesturing around the room.

He smiles, and it's beautiful. The first smile in a long, long time.

You stare into his eyes, smiling softly back, and find exactly what you need in his expression: complete trust and understanding.

You don't know what compels you to do it, or what part of your brain made the decision, but the next second, your lips are on his.

He seems shocked at first, standing still and tensing up. You're about to make an awkward retreat, until he wraps his arms around you tighter, and kisses you back with a passion you didn't realize he possessed.

The emotions clashing in your heart make it swell, and you feel like it might burst under the weight of it all.

There's something so wrong to you about kissing Daryl only feet away from the bed that Lily died in, but you know that she'd want you to be happy.

You are happy. You're happy and sad, elated and anguished all at once. Stumbling upon such a familiar place was unexpected, but worth it, as it led to this.

You pull back, taking in some much needed air. Daryl presses his forehead to yours, breathing heavily.

There's a moment of silence while you both collect your breath and your thoughts. You smile, pulling away to look at him.

He stares at you, looking into your eyes. "Thank you." You say, and he furrows his brows. "For what?" 

You sigh, "For being here. For...understanding. And for letting me kiss you."

You both chuckle, but it becomes serious again. "Of course," he says, "I'm always here for you, (Y/N). You don't have to worry about being alone ever again."

You recognize that he's talking about himself, too. Both of you have been alone for so long, despite Rick and the others. This was a different kind of loneliness.

"Neither will you." You whisper, going in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what your sexuality even is, if you like women at all. I hope you enjoyed regardless


	9. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even when you think you're safe, you're not really.

The two of you soon realize that you've left Daryl's bike and your supplies outside, so you go back out to bring them indoors.

The hospital seems empty, which is incredibly strange. You'd think that there would be at least one walker, but the place is mercifully void of them.

You can't find any medicine either, which ultimately sucks. The place must have been swept through by someone else.

Nonetheless, holing up in the hospital seems like a pretty safe decision, so that's what you do. You avoid Lily's old room, sticking to some near the ground floor.

You scavenge around for a while, collecting anything of value. You find a few comic books in the lobby, and some unpackaged toothbrushes and toothpaste. Not entirely necessary, but still valuable.

The two of you found a room with two beds in it, and you settle in. Even after you've eaten a quick dinner, you still have trouble falling asleep. Daryl seems to have the same problem.

You turn over to look at him where he's staring at the ceiling. The room is dark, but you can see him by the faint moonlight streaming through the window. "Hey," you whisper, "can't sleep either, huh?"

He looks to you, nodding his head. "I'm just thinkin' about everyone back home." He reaches over between the beds, grabbing your hand and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

"Tell me a story? About your life before all this, I mean. Please?" He asks, and you blink. You didn't think he found any enjoyment in listening to you blabbing on about the past.

"Okay." You sigh, and sift through your memories. One surfaces to the forefront of your mind, and you smile. This is one of your favorites.

"Do you remember when I told you about my brothers?" He nods, so you continue, "when we were little, they were about six and I was eight, our dad built us a tree house.

"It was pretty big, and the tree itself was big. So one day, all three of us were up in the tree house, playing with some toy cars. All of a sudden, my dad pops in wearing a scary mask. Obviously, my reaction was to punch him in the nose, so I did.

"His nose broke, and my dad immediately put me into martial arts classes." You pause, comparing the feel of your dad's nose breaking to the feel of Negan's. Negan's was far more satisfying, and far less guilt-ridden.

"So, what happened next?" Daryl asks, and you shrug. "I hated the class. It was too strict, not enough fun for me. I talked to my dad, and he pulled me out of it. I joined a book club instead."

Daryl wrinkles his nose. "How is a book club more fun than martial arts?" You shrug again. "It was to me."

After a moment of silence, he asks another question. "What are your brothers like?"

You think for a moment. "Well, they're identical twins. Their names are Jonah and Ethan. By now, they're both nineteen. Appearance wise, they’ve got curly black hair and blue eyes, but Ethan is a lot skinnier than Jonah, and Jonah has a bit of a beard.

"Personality wise, they're practically opposites. Jonah hates video games, but Ethan loves them. Ethan loves the color blue, and Jonah likes red. Their tastes in food are even completely different. Also, Jonah is straight, and Ethan is gay."

He absorbs all of this information with a thoughtful look on his face. "Anything else I should know about them?" He asks, and you smile. "Nah, that's all the important stuff."

"I just hope they're alive out there..." you sigh, looking at the moon through the window.

Daryl yawns, rubbing his face. "I hope so too. Anyways, I'm gonna try and get some shut eye, you should too. Thanks for the story." He says, and rolls over to face the wall.

You lie awake for a while longer, wondering about Daryl's past. He hasn't really talked about himself, not as much as you have.

Sleep eventually claims you, and you welcome its embrace, thoughts full of the man at your side, and the two men that you wish were here too.

\---------

"(Y/N)! Get up, we've got trouble!" A large hand grips your arm, pulling you up and off the bed. However, in your sleep you had become entangled in the sheets. You topple off the bed in your cocoon, trapped and disoriented. Daryl's face hovers above your own, and he tugs at the sheets until you are able to free yourself.

He keeps his voice to a harsh whisper and explains the situation to you. "I don't know who they are, could be Saviors, maybe not. Either way, there's a group of about five people headed our way in a big ass truck. We need to leave." He pulls you off the floor, and you make your way to the front of the hospital.

The two of you skid to a stop at the sight before you. Two men and one woman stand at the doors of the hospital, looking exactly like Saviors. They haven't noticed you yet, so you duck into the nearest room.

"What's the plan?" You breathe, clutching at Daryl's arm. He grunts and looks around the room. He spots a window and drags you to it. You're on the bottom floor, so it's fairly easy to pull open the window and leap out.

You crouch behind Daryl as you creep your way around the building. "What about the other two?" You question, "You said there were five."

"About five. I couldn't count 'em well from the window. But yeah, they're probably waiting at the truck," He whispers back, and you nod.

Your only option is to wait for the people inside to progress further into the hospital, then sneak around, disable the two at the truck, and get the supplies and Daryl's bike from the lobby. Simple.

Daryl glances through a lobby window, tracking the progress of the three inside. Thankfully, none of them notice Daryl's bike resting against the wall. The two of you sit there for a moment longer. Suddenly, Daryl leaps up, gripping your wrist and dragging you with him.

"You take out the one 'round back. I'll get the one at the front," He instructs, and you both spring into action. The men don't expect anyone to be around, it seems, because they're lounging against their ends of the truck with their guns resting beside them. In the time it takes your guy to notice you, turn, and grab his gun, you're already on him. Your hand goes to his mouth, preventing him from calling out, and your knife goes into his head.

Now that you've taken out the guards, Daryl follows you into the building to grab your supplies and his bike.

The voices of the trio inside are muffled as they enter the stairwell, but you can hear them laughing to each other over some joke one of them made. They begin to climb, and you wait with Daryl until you can't hear them any longer.

The two of you quickly gather your supplies and the bike before sneaking out the front doors. Your anxiety levels are through the roof as you creep around the building. If any of the three look out a window, you'll certainly be spotted.

The two of you tread through the forest surrounding the hospital, putting down a few walkers as you go. You both want to be far enough away from the hospital that none of the three will hear the sound of the bike.

Daryl seems satisfied with the distance, and sits on the bike. You quickly join him; it shouldn't be long before the group discovers the two guards that Daryl and you dealt with.

The bike roars to life beneath you, and you grin as Daryl takes off down the long, winding road. You manage not to fall asleep this time, but lose yourself in your thoughts with your cheek pressed to Daryl's back. You're still not entirely sure where you're going, but you hope it's safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to note that I type this on my phone, usually at like two in the morning. Sorry if it sucks, I tend to remain oblivious to my own errors.


End file.
